


The Right Somebody

by SabbyStarlight



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5177726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Zed return to the mill house after a run in with an evil spirit leaves John injured.  </p>
<p>Zed patches him up and John isn't used to having someone there to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve never written a Constantine fic before; As much of a fan as I am I never really considered writing it myself. John just seemed like one of those characters that is so wonderfully (the writers did such an amazing job, and Matt portrayed him perfectly) constructed that I was terrified that if I attempted a Constantine fic I would disappoint. I didn’t want to risk messing up such perfect characters. But there is such a small amount of Constantine fanfiction out there that I gave in. So I’m sorry if it’s not any good, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head until I wrote it down.

 

“Ouch!  Bloody hell, woman, there’s a damn door frame there.”  John Constantine groaned as he and Zed made their way slowly into the living room of the mill house.  

 

“Or at least there used to be a door frame there.  A large portion of is is probably now lodged into my arm.”  He sighed, not being able to reach up and rub the newly forming bruise as his other arm was currently draped across Zed’s shoulders as she attempted to lead his battered and broken body to the sofa.  

 

 “That little bump is the least of your problems right now, John.”  The psychic reminded him as she tried to gently drop him onto the couch.  The process was much more difficult than it first appeared and John eventually just gave up and collapsed onto the worn piece of furniture with a pained moan, eyes tightly closed as his head found it’s way to the back of the couch.    

 

After a few seconds to regain his composure, John spoke.  “Bring me a few things, would you luv?  Whiskey.  Skip the glass, bring the whole damn bottle.  Ice pack.  First aid kit.  In that order.”  

 

“I’m not bringing you whiskey, John.”  Zed informed him as she headed towards the bathroom to find the first aid kit.  

 

“Why the bloody hell not?”  John asked loudly so she could hear him through the walls.  

 

“You can’t drink on painkillers.”  She yelled back.  

 

“What painkillers?”  He inferred.  “I haven’t taken any painkillers.  That’s what the whiskey is for!”  

 

Zed walked back into the room carrying the large first aid kit.  She tossed a little orange bottle towards John as she continued on into the kitchen.  The number of blows he had taken to the head over the past few hours, combined with the other injuries one receives when tossed down two flights of stairs by an evil spirit. had a negative effect on his reflexes and the bottle hit him square in the chest, the arm reaching out in an attempt to catch it tugged on broken ribs causing him to hiss in pain.

 

Before John had time to force his eyes to focus on the tiny print on the bottle, Zed had returned with a water bottle.  She silently took the bottle from his hands and her long fingers had twisted the lid open before he could blink.  She handed him two pills and the water with a glare that clearly meant he wasn’t to argue.  John sighed, knowing that it wasn’t a battle worth fighting, and swallowed the pills down with a swig of water.  

 

“Alright.”  Zed spoke, all business, as she set the first aid kit on the coffee table and opened it.  “What hurts the most?”  

 

“Moving.”  John answered dryly.   

 

“John.  I’m serious.”  She said with an eyeroll.  

 

“As am I.  movement is, quite literally at the moment, a real pain.”    

 

“Okay.”  Zed shrugged.  “You won’t let me help?  That’s fine.  I’ll just call Chas, even though he was taking Geraldine to the movies tonight, and let him come drag your ass to the nearest hospital.   I’ll enjoy a nice night in by myself and leave you in the hands of a very pissed off Chas and whatever nurse gets the pleasure of stabbing you with a bunch of needles.  Have fun.”  She turned on her heel and walked away, not making it halfway across the room before John’s dejected voice rang out.  

 

“Wait.”  

 

Zed stopped but didn’t turn around.  John sighed and continued.  “M’sorry.  I... I’m not good at letting people take care of me.  You don’t need to call Chas.  And we certainly don’t need to include the help of nurses with needles.”  She smiled at the shudder in his voice on the last word and turned around.  

 

“I can’t believe you actually fell for that.  Like I would really call Chas when he’s spending time with his daughter.”  She smirked.  “Seriously though John.  I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.  You have to tell me.”  

 

John sighed.  He hated this.  He hated the pain.  He hated being reliant upon other people.  He hated showing weakness, and in front of Zed of all people, but he wasn’t seeing any other option.  

 

“Head is pounding, but with as many blows as I took to it I’m amazed I’m even conscious at the moment.  Chest feels like it’s on fire, and I can’t put any weight on my left ankle.  Not bad enough to be broken, though m’afraid I can’t say the same about my ribs.  Nothing else major, just scrapes and bruises.  But I honestly don’t know that there’s a part of me that doesn’t hurt.”       

 

Zed nodded.  “Look here for me?”  She asked holding a finger in front of her, watching as John’s eyes attempted, and failed, to follow it.  “Yeah you totally have a concussion.  And you’re still bleeding.”  She placed her hand against his face, mindful of the bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, and traced the line of the bleeding gash on his temple.  

 

John sat silently while she cleaned the blood off his face, not even complaining when she touched the alcohol-soaked cotton ball to the wound, though she didn’t miss his hand tightening into a fist from the sharp stinging pain.  Zed resisted the urge to reach out and wrap her own hand around his, wanting to offer him some relief but she knew that for John Constantine, the best comfort she could offer was pretending not to notice his weaknesses.  

 

So she pretended to ignore the way he quietly gasped when he moved his leg and accidentally jostled his ankle.  Acted as though that gasp hadn’t sent fire racing through his broken ribs causing his face to turn from pale to absolutely white, which in turn made the bruises on his face stand out even more.    

 

She finished cleaning the cut and taping it shut with butterfly bandages before gently asking,  “Think you can sit up and let me wrap your ribs?”  

 

“I think those damn pills you gave me were bloody worthless, that’s what I think.  Whiskey would have been much more effective.”  he answered, not attempting to move.  

 

“John.  Can you sit up or not?”  Zed was getting frustrated with the man.  He clearly needed her help but wasn’t willing to take it without putting up a fight.  

 

With a groan, John lurched forward, knowing that moving slowly would just prolong his misery.  The pain he was prepared for, what he was not expecting though, was that the mixture of pain and his severe concussion would cause the room to spin around him, starbursts exploding behind closed eyelids, nausea rising up from his stomach.  

 

When he got the pain under control he risked opening his eyes again to find his elbows propped on his knees, a cold sweat broke out across his face, and Zed’s hand placed gently between his shoulderblades.  

 

“You alright?”  She asked softly.  

 

John didn’t move more than a miniscule nod of his head but it was enough for Zed to breath a sigh of relief.  “You idiot.  You should have let me help you!”  She scolded as she slowly pushed his elbows backwards onto his thighs, sitting him up straighter.  

 

“Yeah, well you should let me be highly intoxicated right now. Or have a smoke at the very least.  Oh God, do I want a smoke right now…”  He muttered to himself.  

 

“Yeah well you can have a cigarette once we're done.  If you haven’t passed out on me before then.”  She told him.  “I’m gonna unbutton your shirt now, okay?”  

 

“Why didn’t we begin with the fun part?”  John asked, flirty smirk threatening to bust open his split lip.

 

Zed sighed in exasperation.  She kept the smile from showing on her lips but couldn’t quite keep it out of her eyes.  

 

John, ever perceptive-even in his current state, saw of course and continued.  “You know, luv.  This isn’t exactly how I had envisioned our first time undressing each other.”  

 

She rolled her eyes and slipped John’s shirt off his shoulders as carefully as she could, wincing when she saw the array of deep purple bruises spanning his right side and left shoulder.  “You’re lucky you didn’t dislocate this…”  She said, gently tracing her fingers across the inflamed skin.  

 

“Because, as clearly depicted by my current state, I’m such a lucky man.”  John deadpanned as Zed began tightly wrapping an ace bandage around his torso.  

 

“Do I need to remind you that your other option involved nurses and needles?”  She asked, voice sarcastic and sugary sweet.

 

“No.  Although at least the content of those damned needles would have left me feeling absolutely nothing.”  John winced as the bandage wrapped around a particularly tender spot.  

 

“You took those pills ten minutes ago.  Give it another ten and you’ll thank me.”  She told him, eyes tracking how each time she wound the bandage around him he winced a little more.  

 

“I won’t be alive to thank you if you wrap those bandages any tighter!”  John exclaimed.  Zed watched the furrow between his brows deepen, the skin pulling so tight that she was growing concerned that the gash on his temple would start bleeding again.  

 

“You know,”  She began, trying to distract him.  “If I had known that you were going to be so careless and let yourself get thrown down two flights of stairs tonight and leave me patching you up, I would have worn my slutty nurse costume from last Halloween under my clothes.  Then we could have turned this into some real fun AND maybe taken care of your fear of nurses at the same time.”  

 

“Wha… You have a… You have GOT to be kidding me.”  John stammered, eyes wide, staring at Zed’s self satisfied smirk.  

 

“Of course I don’t have a slutty nurse costume.”  She told him, gently slapping his uninjured shoulder.  “But the thought of that distracted you long enough for me to finish this.”  She said, securing the clip on the bandages.

 

“Huh,”  He said surprised as he looked down at his newly wrapped torso.  “Clever.”  

 

Zed shrugged nonchalantly, not wanting to admit how proud she was of her quick thinking.  “You want me to help you upstairs of are you just going to crash here tonight?”

 

“No way in hell am I making it up those blasted stairs.”  John admitted, bracing his hands against his knees and pushing himself up, slowly this time, so he could prepare to lay down on the sofa.  

 

“Here.”  Zed said as she perched on the coffee table and gently untied and removed his boots, wincing as she uncovered his sprained ankle.  “Lay down, carefully, and I’ll bring you an ice pack for that ankle.”  

 

John nodded and began to lay down, only to stop halfway, propped up on his elbows.  “Bloody hell.  I think those drugs just kicked in.”  He announced, staring up at the beams of the mill house ceiling that he was pretty sure weren’t supposed to be spinning.  

 

Zed smiled and instinctively brushed a gentle hand through John’s blonde hair as she helped him lay down all the way before heading towards the kitchen to find an ice pack.

 

When she returned she found John, half asleep, staring at the fire burning in the fireplace.  He had grabbed the old throw blanket from the back of the sofa and had tossed it haphazardly across his arms.    

 

“Found an ice pack.”  She told him, holding up the bag of half frozen blue goo that she had wrapped in a kitchen towel.  John looked at her for a moment before nodding and turning back to the flames.  The combination of pain, exhaustion, and good drugs had taken their toll on the demon hunter.  

 

Zed carefully propped his foot up on a pillow from on of the living room arm chairs and placed the ice pack on the part of his ankle that seemed the most swollen.  “You should get some sleep while you can.”  She told him as she properly covered him up with the blanket.  “You’re gonna be miserable when you wake up in the morning and those drugs have worn off.”

 

 John nodded and closed his eyes, attempting to adjust himself into a more comfortable position but giving up when it proved too painful.  A few seconds later though, his eyes opened again as he groaned.  “I never got my smoke, did I?”  

 

Zed laughed a lighthearted chuckle, relieved to know that if he was worried about a cigarette he would be alright.  “Go to sleep, John.”  She ran her hand through his hair again, this time taking a moment to stop and press a soft kiss to his temple, right above the bandage she had placed there earlier.  

 

“G’night, luv.”  He whispered.  

 

“Goodnight, John.”  She answered, voice equally as soft, as she walked towards the staircase leading to the second floor.  Her foot had just hit the second step when she heard his voice.  

 

“You know, with the fireplace down here it’s probably a lot warmer than it would be upstairs.  You could stay.  Down here, with me.  If you wanted.”  

   

Zed grinned and quickly kicked off her own boots and shrugged out of her leather jacket, leaving them both on the stairs, before returning to the living room.  John smiled up at her from the couch, knowing gleam in his eyes that said he knew she would accept his offer.  

 

“Plenty of room for the both of us.”  He said as he patted the empty space beside him and held the blanket open for her as she carefully laid down on her side and snuggled her head onto his chest, mindful of the broken ribs on his other side.  John smiled and twisted one of her curls around his finger before his arm wrapped around her, pulling her close, and he settled his hand on the curve of her waist.  

 

Zed hadn’t realized just how tired she was until she finally let herself relax.  Laying on the living room sofa, warm in John’s arms, knowing that he was safe, she fell asleep within minutes.

 

And on that night, for the first time in his life, John Constantine realized that needing somebody, if it was the right somebody, might not be such a bad thing after all.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is. My first Constantine fanfiction. I’m not sure how I feel about it, I had intended for it to be a little bit funnier but it got fluffy on me. Oh well. I hope it was fairly in character. Feel free to give your feedback, I’d love to know your thoughts.


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